My Transformative Hair Journey

Throughout my life, I've been known for my long, straight hair which has played a significant role in shaping my identity. This association with long hair began at the age of ten when I underwent the traditional relaxer treatment to transform my natural hair texture. I didn’t fully understand what was happening to my hair, but I loved the results! My hair grew long, thick, and healthy, going from long, to longer, to longest. People even thought I had weave or extensions… maybe a backhanded compliment?

Over the years, I experimented with different styles, colors, and textures with my hair. I dyed it black (my favorite), curled it for a more exotic look, and even tried the wet curly style. I bleached it to test if blondes really had more fun (spoiler: they did), and I rocked both bob cuts and the curly variations.

I come from a family with naturally beautiful, thick hair. I inherited this trait from my mom, my aunts, and their cousins, as well as my cousins on both sides of the family. It was the norm; we all felt pretty and found value in our hair. But when my natural hair started growing back, I felt out of place, less beautiful, and disconnected from myself. So, relaxing my hair became a “religious” routine. Every four months, I’d schedule an appointment to re-do the treatment, and after enduring the pain of relaxing and blow-drying, I’d feel confident and like my true self again.

I was young and couldn’t see the full picture. Any advice about “going natural” felt irrelevant because, in my mind, my straight hair was doing just fine.

I couldn’t imagine myself with any other type of hair. Well, that’s not entirely true—there was a time in my teenage years when I admired my friend Christyne’s curly hair. Little did I know, my natural hair was curly too, but I wasn’t aware of that at the time. Still, my mom bought me products for me that could turn my straight hair into beautifully defined curls. This quickly became a simple method to achieve my curl fantasies.

Around 2011, the natural hair movement began gaining momentum, but I saw it as a trend that would eventually fade. My cousin’s wife, Noritsa, was an early adopter of the movement, and while she often tried to convince me to embrace my natural curls, I resisted. To me, changing my hair felt like changing who I was. It meant stepping out of my comfort zone and breaking away from the beauty standards I was accustomed to. Plus, I didn’t have a circle of Black women around me who were confidently rocking their natural hair.

I was young and couldn’t see the full picture. Any advice about “going natural” felt irrelevant because, in my mind, my straight hair was doing just fine. But, if I’m being honest, that wasn’t entirely true. I had a sensitive scalp prone to dandruff, which led to severe irritation and discomfort, especially after my relaxer treatments. Flakes would cling to my clothes, and I’d have to check my shoulders before stepping out. Still, since I only relaxed my hair two to three times a year, I didn’t see it as a problem. I figured the real problem behind my hair issues was the shower water in the Netherlands, along with my occasional laziness.

Despite it all, I loved my hair’s versatility and strength—even when damaged, it always bounced back. So, I saw no valid reason to go natural. But I was wrong. In 2018, I decided to do a total makeover: I cut my bob, relaxed my hair, and dyed it black all on the same day, even though I knew I was allergic to hair dye, especially those containing ammonia. I was excited about my new look; it felt like “Giany 2.0” was ready to take over. But 24 hours later, I paid the price—severe allergic reactions left my scalp covered in painful sores and my face swollen for days. It was a wake-up call. After this experience, I started paying closer attention to the health of my scalp and began considering a transition to natural hair. I let my hair grow for six months and got advice from my cousin’s wife and a supportive colleague who was also embracing her natural curls. Her long, beautiful curls became an indirect source of motivation for me.

However, those six months were challenging. I struggled with washing, detangling, and styling my hair, especially since I was avoiding gels and waxes due to my sensitive scalp. My dandruff improved, but looking in the mirror, I found it hard to recognize myself in the mirror. I felt uncomfortable, less confident, and overly self-conscious. Eventually, my discomfort reached a breaking point that led me back to relaxing my hair. Once I’d done the treatment, I felt at home again as I saw my usual self staring back in the mirror.

Now, at 30, after two decades of exploring my beautiful straight hair, I’m finally ready to embrace my natural texture, knowing that it doesn’t define who I am

My relationship with my hair is one of the most significant connections in my life. Now, at 30, after two decades of exploring my beautiful straight hair, I’m finally ready to embrace my natural texture, knowing that it doesn’t define who I am. I feel confident and courageous enough to explore this new dimension of authenticity. After ten months of growing out my natural hair, I took the plunge and did the iconic “big chop.” I was nervous that this new look might not suit me or that I’d feel disconnected from the person staring back in the mirror. But as the hairdresser snipped away my relaxed hair, I was overwhelmed with a sense of freedom, independence, pride, and empowerment. I did it, and I have no regrets. I finally allowed myself to embrace my natural curls with pride, and this transformation has been a surprising confidence booster. I’m thrilled with the result—I feel beautiful and proud of myself for taking this bold step and truly owning it.

I know Noritsa, may she rest in peace, would be proud of this decision. I’m excited to see where this new journey takes me and curious to discover the woman I’ll become with my natural curls in this new decade.

PS Feel free to share any advice or suggestions on how to care for natural hair :)